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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29450577">If Blood Be Spilled</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThereBeWhalesHere/pseuds/ThereBeWhalesHere'>ThereBeWhalesHere</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anal Sex, Death, Fantasy, Gore, M/M, Medieval Fantasy, Monsterfucking, Murder, Non-Human Genitalia, Other, Religion, Rimming, Unrealistic Sex</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 18:47:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>11,050</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29450577</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThereBeWhalesHere/pseuds/ThereBeWhalesHere</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>If blood be spilled upon this stone<br/>Soiling my sacred site<br/>I shall seek survivors in the night<br/>And break their bodies, breath and bone...</i>
</p>
<p>Cane has never feared the stone monolith in the forest, nor the cryptic poem inscribed on its face. In fact, something in the stone has always called to him. </p>
<p>If there is a spirit in that monument, it is <i>his</i> spirit.</p>
<p>Tonight, it finally makes itself known to him with an offer he could never have imagined.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>original monster character(s)/original male character</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>55</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>If Blood Be Spilled</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I have had this thought in my brain for like a year, and it took me almost that long to write it! Just wanted a willowy, arrogant bastard to get uber-fucked by an ancient god. It's the little things, right? </p>
<p>Anyway, I spent WAY too long getting the lore just the way I wanted it for this, so I hope you enjoy it! Thanks for giving it a shot!</p>
<p>Thank you so much to <a href="https://twitter.com/MLioncat">Mango</a> for beta-reading this for me and assuring me it wasn't too weird, haha! And thank you to <a href="https://twitter.com/WaltzRio">my wife</a> for reading it, too, and being so complimentary! Love you baby!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The great monolith stood where it had for centuries, in the center of a clearing in the center of a forest, surrounded by towering trees whose canopies, no matter how high they grew, barely reached its tallest point. It was hewn from granite, roughly rectangular, balanced steadfastly upon a squat plinth. In spring, red morning birds made nests of the ivy that had grown thick over the stone’s face. In summer, insects laid their eggs in the tree roots that looped and twisted at the plinth’s base. In winter, snow accentuated the stone’s inscription, symbols nearly lost to time and weathering, but carved deep enough to see. They spanned the height of the stone’s face, angular and jagged.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>If blood be spilled upon this stone</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Soiling my sacred site</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I shall seek survivors in the night</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>And break their bodies, breath and bone</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The ancient inscription had been translated hundreds of times from its original script. Holy scholars, like Cane’s own parents, had bowed their heads over crumbling manuscripts for centuries, attempting to better understand the threat inlaid in that stone monument — the threat that still stood in the forest outside the city gates. No one spoke the old language now, nor did Cane believe anyone cared to. The monolith had been a forbidden site since the Old Wars. None, not even scholars, were permitted to approach it.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Of course, Cane Larien knew the stone well. Confinement inside the city’s walls had never suited him, and since childhood he would sneak away to wander through these woods. The monument had long called out to him. A siren song. A small rebellion. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Cane did not fear any ruins of the Old World, and certainly not this one. In fact, it was a favorite place of his to take his picnic, to splay on the stone and split a peach with an old hunting knife, sucking gently at the juices as his eyes traced the symbols of that ancient inscription until he knew the swirls and jutting lines of it as well as he knew his own fingerprints.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As he aged and eventually took up post as a guard at the city gates, he came to understand that he was alone in his fascination with the monument. No one knew what old god had once patronized the sacred stone, and none cared for Cane's speculation. A forest spirit, a god of war — what did it matter if the entity simply left the city at peace? Everyone lived in fear of the old magics.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>At least, the city folk did. The bandits that circled the city walls and raided stores of food and gold? They gave no thought to superstition.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Cane leapt over gnarled tree roots, shooting through the forest fast enough to keep the backs of his quarry in sight. Leather-clad and flashing in brief spots of sunlight through the thick canopy, the men — only two had survived their attempt to raid the city’s warehouse — ran without heed of their feet, stumbling and cursing. Their scabbards snapped twigs as they caught themselves on tree trunks, and their boots left tell-tale tracks in the moist and rotting foliage of the forest floor. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They wouldn’t be hard to track, should Cane fall behind them, but he was a hunter. And they were his prey. He rather enjoyed the chase. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Inhaling sharply through his nose, Cane kept his pace steady. Even with his sword in-hand, he proved lighter than the men ahead, faster and more graceful. Lithe as a wild cat, hair knotted tight enough to the back of his head that it couldn’t snag on low branches, he slipped through shadows and over logs as if he were the wind. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The forest exuded a familiar scent of old moss and crisp greenery; this was </span>
  <em>
    <span>his </span>
  </em>
  <span>element, not theirs. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Animals skittered from their hiding places, startled by the chase; </span>
  <em>
    <span>he</span>
  </em>
  <span> was the most dangerous thing in these woods, not them.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Cane ordered the men to stop, but they didn’t listen.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Here, this way!” one shouted, breathless. The pair cut a harsh right through the trees, and Cane followed, gaining fast. The slower of the two lagged nearly within reach. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Cane's blood roared in his ears, excitement rising in his throat as he realized suddenly where they were leading him. The soil beneath his feet was well-trod from years of wear under Cane’s own boots. Massive trees began to grow thin and brief as the bandits ran toward the clearing, Cane in tow, and it was as their backs came into full view that Cane caught sight of the monolith up ahead. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>If blood be spilled...</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The clear footing gave Cane the advantage he had been waiting for. He bent his knees and launched himself onto the nearest man’s back. His strong thighs clamped around a thick midsection, and his prey shrieked, bucked like a wild horse. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Get off! Get him off!” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The other may have shouted his friend’s name in warning, but Cane heard only his own heartbeat as he drove his sword down into the back of the man’s neck, straight through his throat.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A truncated scream echoed off ancient trees, reverberating throughout the small clearing, amplified by the sheer block of stone in its center — but it left pure silence in its wake.The man collapsed, a red fountain spurting from his wound. Blood splattered Cane’s face like a spring rain, and Cane, still latched to the bandit’s back, twisted the sword deeper. Vertebra cracked against his blade’s edge. If there had been life left in that body, it was gone now. A low gurgle bubbled out of the corpse's mouth. Its lips lay slack against the soil and grass, bright red as rubies.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Breath heaved Cane’s lungs. The metallic tang of iron stung his lips. He blinked blood from his eyelashes and took a moment to relish the red slick on the steel of his sword where it remained buried in soft, dead flesh — and the heavy body lying prone beneath him. All at once, the stench of death overcame the natural entropic rot of the forest, and Cane curled his nose in distaste. It would be best to get this done with, now that the first of his prey had been felled.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But when Cane lifted his eyes from his triumph, the survivor did not look afraid. It was a shame; Cane was used to their kind fearing him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No further,” the man snapped, gruff and out of breath. His eyes had gone wild, wiry hair tangled with twigs. He stood resolute on the stone plinth upon which the monolith was raised, gripping his sword as if ready to raise it to Cane, as if he thought he could survive an encounter with a member of the city guard — with </span>
  <em>
    <span>Cane Larien</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Cane blinked at him and slowly drew the point of his sword from its gruesome sheath. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“If you value your life,” the man continued, “you will turn away and leave me.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Nonchalant, Cane wiped his blade on the soft leather of the corpse’s tunic, smearing it with red as he held the bandit’s eyes. He rose to his feet, sword hanging limp at his side as he stepped over the bloodied remains of his kill.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You cannot win this fight,” Cane said, as a courtesy. A warning. Something twitched in the bandit’s expression, and he took a step back, his heel hitting the base of the great stone. It towered above him, casting him in shadow. Did the man believe he was safe here?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The bandit must know none of Cane’s countrymen ever dared approach the stone, but Cane was not like his countrymen. He strode forward with familiar ease. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>This was </span>
  <em>
    <span>his </span>
  </em>
  <span>monument. If there were a spirit attached, it was </span>
  <em>
    <span>his</span>
  </em>
  <span> spirit. He had nothing to fear.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I do not plan to fight,” the bandit said, voice confident. “You are of the city; you know the promise in this stone.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I do.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“And you know that if you should kill me here, the spirit will seek revenge.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Cane’s small smile grew, seemingly unnerving the man before him. Good. A wayward strand of Cane's red hair had escaped its tie in the struggle, so he gently tucked it behind his ear, sure to smear blood along his cheek as he did so. Cane was a willowy man, pale skin and delicate features, but he could intimidate those larger and stronger than him. Intimidation was not a matter of appearance, but of confidence. The element of surprise.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“The old gods are long dead,” Cane replied. He twirled his sword absently, the swish through thick, muggy air lending a rhythm to his words. “The old rituals are forgotten. The old tongues no longer spoken. You’ll find no shelter from me in that old stone.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The confidence on the bandit’s face fell as his grip tightened around the hilt of his sword. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“My mother was from the city,” the bandit said quickly, raising his blade as Cane came closer. “She told me the old rhyme. If you kill me, you’ll be killed, yourself. You’ll regret it.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Cane laughed. “And when you raid our stores again? I would regret letting you live. You are trapped, little rabbit. How could I release you now?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>How rich — for Cane to call the man little, this grizzled fighter who likely had a foot of height and ten years of age on Cane himself. But size did not always equate to power. Cane had proven this a thousand times. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He set the toe of his boot on the pedestal, and stepped up with effortless determination. The bandit shrank back against the stone. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No closer!” He shouted, sword raised in front of him. “Come no closer!” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Cane measured the distance between them with a calculating eye. It would only be fair to grant this man his last request. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Very well,” he agreed. “I’ll stay right where I am.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He twirled the sword in his hand once more and raised it over his head in one swift motion. Before the bandit could duck away, the blade fell in a wide slash. It cut right through the bandit’s fingers — through gristle and bone. The sword fell with a clatter. Steel on stone. A shower of red spilled from stubs where fingers hung from thin strips of flesh, and the man choked on a scream so visceral it made the hair on Cane’s arms stand up.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Birds screeched above, taking to the sky.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Cane stared with casual interest as the man fell to his knees, clutching his hand against his chest. Blood soaked into his shirt and blossomed like a bouquet into the coarse linen, soaking down his chest and onto his folded legs. From the stumps of his fingers, it dripped onto the stone beneath him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>If blood be spilled...</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Please,” the man cried. “Please.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Was he begging for his life? Or begging for a quick and merciful end? Cane had no interest in the answer. He had his duty and he had his desire, and both called for the bandit’s death.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He stepped forward, careful to avoid the blood now pooling on the plinth, and he set the tip of his sword just under the bandit’s chin. It would pierce his jugular. Just like his friend. One impaled from the back, one from the front.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Those eyes lifted to him </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Ghosts, demons, spirits, gods… why did anyone bother to fear such things when a flesh-and-blood man could cut short a life in a moment? On a whim? </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>If blood be spilled...</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The bandit’s eyes fell closed, and Cane drove his sword into the soft flesh of his throat. Metal hit stone as the blade’s tip slipped straight through, the fibers of the man’s jugular tearing against its edge. Blood burst from between his lips. A strangled sound spurt from the hole in his throat. A final breath. And Cane held him there against the monument until the tremors faded from his body.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It didn’t take long.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>With the bandit’s lifeless head lolling over his sword, half-removed from its neck, Cane stood there in contemplation of the corpse, unaware that a rain of blood had splattered his boots and now crept into a pool around his feet. Instead, he was staring at the open gape of the man’s mouth, crooked teeth behind chapped lips, all red, red, red. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Cane lifted his eyes up the height of the monument, the corner of his lips lifting. “Well,” he said quietly. “That’s for you, Old One. Do your worst, I suppose.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>With that, he drew his sword back, and the body of his prey crumpled at his feet. He stood alone, alive, victorious, and he grinned like a snarling cat. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>If blood be spilled...</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The shift came sudden, subtle but undeniable. A steel-gray shade settled over the scene as if a storm had appeared out of nowhere above, blocking the sun, and an unnatural stillness gripped the forest. Leaves unrustled by wind froze in place, sound ceased as no twigs snapped and no squirrels chirped and no insects screeched and no wings beat. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And Cane stood still on the stone dias with his bloodied sword clutched in his hand, raising his eyes to the monolith up past the canopy, into the colorless sky.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The breath caught in Cane’s chest as the weeds and vines that had obscured the stone since his childhood began to recede. Bit by bit, tendrils of vines crept down the stone’s face, twisting and shrinking and wilting away. Were it not for the strength of feeling in Cane’s own body — his blood rushing and his palms sweating and the heat in his cheeks — he would believe himself to be dreaming. Or dead.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He raised his sword in threat to the stone and stepped gingerly backwards, coming down from the plinth. As the leaves and weeds crumbled away from the stone’s inscription, the gray-silver shine of the sky painted the strange symbols of its curse in streaks of light. They wavered and shifted in Cane's vision, words Cane could now read clearly, standing out against the old etching as if he were hallucinating them atop the stone.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But the poem was not the one he knew. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Give me blood to wet the stone</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Sanctify my hallowed site</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I shall seek my patron in the night</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>And give him the reward he’s owed.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The words wavered in Cane’s vision, as if he’d only just opened his eyes and the world were floating out of focus. But as soon as he understood them, as soon as their meaning sank deep into his bones, everything came rushing back.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The sound, the movement, the wind and the birds and the stench of blood and the bandit’s soiled clothes — and the blue stretch of the sky above. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Cane turned away, and he ran.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The guards he’d left at the gate praised Cane his kills, thanked him for pursuing the bandits into the woods where the rest of the guard dared not go. If they noticed the hollow look in his eyes, they did not speak of it. Many guards wandered around with hollow eyes. The ones who set the bodies of slain bandits up against the city wall — a warning to their kin — may well have been dead themselves. Cane did not envy the gruesome nature of their duties. He preferred a fresh kill to a rotting trophy.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But later, as he stripped off his armor and slipped into the public bath to wash the blood from his body, duty was the farthest thing from his mind. He sat consumed by the strange vision he had suffered at the base of the stone. He had been running in full armor in the summer heat in the muggy woods. He had exerted himself. Was it possible that it had been a hallucination, a trick of the heat and dehydration? </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Nearly 25 years, Cane had been visiting the old monument. Yet today, today was the first time he felt he had </span>
  <em>
    <span>seen</span>
  </em>
  <span> it. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Blood turned bathwater pink, dust and dirt settled in a fine sediment on the slick stone of the tub. And Cane tried to clean the confusion from his body. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was a trick of the light. Nothing more.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I shall seek my patron in the night</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>And give him the reward he’s owed</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Despite the heat rising from the water, Cane shivered.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>At sunset, the city locked its gates. It was a precaution that dated back to its establishment, to the Old Wars and the old beliefs — the fear that spirits wandered freely in the dark, and those trapped in the thick woods might find their way inside if the doors remained open to them.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>What good walls and gates could do against spirits, if such things even existed, Cane never knew. If he were smarter — smart enough to be afraid — he might at least hope that the precaution would be warranted, that whatever being lived in the old stone would stop short at the city walls and leave him be.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But Cane was not afraid. He never had been. He was not afraid of the forest or the stone or the old magics and their old gods, and he was not the kind to cower.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Whatever version of the poem was to be believed, whether he was a murderer or a patron, to be punished or rewarded, one part of the promise was the same. The spirit would seek him in the night.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Cane would not allow himself to be hunted.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>So when shutters closed and lanterns snuffed and the city fell into its rest, Cane slipped into his boots and took his sword from the wall and left, treading the familiar route from the barracks through the empty marketplace, to the alleyway behind the temple, to the drainage grate whose bars had always been just wide enough for a slender man to slip through.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And he made his way past the guards pacing the city walls, and into the thick brush of the forest where he would not be seen. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The stillness that had fallen upon the forest during Cane's vision had long-since lifted, and the trees had come alive with scuttling bugs and skittering rodents, owls hooting and crows cawing and bats flapping as they darted through the black sky. The sick screech of cicadas overwhelmed even the sound of his own footsteps.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Starlight, moonlight and instinct led Cane's feet forward.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As he drew closer to the clearing, to the siren call of the stone, traces of his earlier chase through the forest became clear. Broken branches, boot prints in the moist forest floor. But even when he noticed the first drops of dried blood splattered on the leaves, he smelled nothing. No scent of stale death or the musky scent of scavenging predators.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Eyes on the ground, Cane caught the corner of the stain just before he stepped in it. It was where the first bandit's body had fallen. His blood had soaked deep into the soil, a black swath of rot in the shadow of the night.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But the body was gone.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A quick scan of the trees and brush — no signs of predation. No claw marks or drag marks or pieces of clothing or flesh ripped from the body. It was simply… gone.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He lifted his gaze to the clearing, toward the stone in its center, already knowing what he would see. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Give me blood to wet the stone...</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The man he had left dead on the plinth had disappeared, leaving behind nothing. Not even the rust stain of his blood. The stone, still bare of weeds and vines, gleamed in the starlight as if freshly polished. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Cane rested a hand on the pommel of his sword. And he strode forward.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Well?" He called, as brazen as he could be with a tremor inching down his spine. It was not borne of fear, but of a bone-deep sense of discomfort. Something in the forest was unsettled. Wrong. It manifested in an itch, almost, under the surface of his skin.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Nothing answered his call. "Here I am," he said loudly, turning around and holding out his arms to the clearing. "No need to seek me out, spirit. Do you wish to ruin or reward me? I am prepared to kill you for my own life, should it come to this."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>If Cane were not so focused on keeping his heartbeat steady and unafraid, he may have noticed then that the birds had gone silent on their branches, that the insects had quieted in the canopy's shadow. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>If the hairs on his arms weren't already standing on end, he might have noticed that the warm breeze had ceased, the air going still around him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Well?" He challenged again. Relief. Disappointment. What had he expected? He never believed in this nonsense anyway. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"I always knew."</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It came from everywhere and nowhere, within his mind and without, a voice with no body, an energy with no source, a layering of sounds and feelings and words in languages long dead that shook the leaves on the trees and shot straight to Cane's core. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He doubled over, clutching his stomach where the vibration of the voice seemed to concentrate itself. The blood upon the grass, still impossibly wet, soaked into the knees of his breeches, cold and unnatural.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I always knew it would be you.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A thousand languages rumbled like thunder beneath the words, and Cane felt… fondness. Protectiveness. A coveting kind of possessiveness. He gasped a breath and turned his eyes to the stone. It remained still and dark, blotting out the stars above.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"What are you?!"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Silence. Pressure began to build in Cane's ears, something shifting in the atmosphere around him. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“It has been so long,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>the voice rumbled.</span>
  <em>
    <span> “I knew it would be you.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Cane forced himself to breathe, forced himself to his feet. Forced himself to draw his sword. It slid from its sheath with a swish, and hung limp at Cane's side as he made his way toward the stone.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"What do you want?" He managed to say, the pressure building all around him, a warmth snaking through the air and into his veins. Something pleasant tingled in his gut — a feeling not entirely his own — when next the voice spoke.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Worship,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> it whispered reverently. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Sacrifice. Reward. You.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Cane paused at the foot of the plinth, staring upwards.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Reward. You want to reward me for…" he waved the flat blade of the sword at the empty space where a bandit's body lay bleeding mere hours ago. "For the sacrifice I made. To you."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A vibration shot through Cane's frame, starting in the tips of his toes and running like lightning up his spine. He gasped, and the sword fell from his hand into the loam and soil. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It felt like … a yes.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Cane swallowed a dry lump in his throat. "What kind of reward?" His voice came out a mere whisper. A peep. But undeniably he had been heard.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A sense of satisfaction curled through him. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“They used to come from all corners,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> the voice murmured, a soothing, deep sound like rain approaching from a far distance. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“They would bring me wine and fruit and flesh, wet my stone with blood so that I might grant them their deepest desires.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“They have not come in a long, long time. Without them, I am trapped. Here. Alone.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Cane stepped up onto the plinth, his knees weak with some force or feeling he couldn't name. Gingerly, he laid a hand upon the stone.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The world around him seemed to heave a great sigh, the pressure easing from the air. Cane's ears popped, his lungs aching for a fresh breath.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Then you came. You gave me fruit and flesh, your flesh upon my stone and your heat against my cold. You came when all others feared me. You came. I knew you would learn someday, how to worship me. You have learned, my love.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Cane's fingers curled against the stone, tempted to draw away. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I don't," he said quietly. "I worship nothing. Neither old gods or new."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The pressure returned, so fast and harsh it threw Cane to his knees at the base of the monolith. He winced at the sudden pain of impact, biting his cheek against a cry. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But as quickly as it came, the pressure eased once more, and a soothing feeling rolled down Cane's back like spring water. He unclenched his wound-tight muscles and stared up the height of the monument, his vision swimming. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“You will.”</span>
  </em>
  <span> The voice said, sounding almost dejected. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“You will worship me when you know what I may give you.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"My ‘deepest desires,’" Cane echoed lamely. His voice trembled. "What does that mean?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Another rumble like thunder, a hum of approval, an intense feeling of </span>
  <em>
    <span>wanting</span>
  </em>
  <span> that didn’t belong to Cane. It curled around him like an embrace.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Whose body do you crave? Whose touch do you imagine when you touch yourself?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The question made Cane's mouth go dry. So matter-of-fact and unashamed, this being. This creature. This spirit. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And he had no answer. When he touched himself, the figure in his mind was nameless and shapeless and ever-changing. When he did share a bed with someone, it was less fantasy and more necessity. An itch to scratch away.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Who do you desire?”</span>
  </em>
  <span> The voice prompted. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What if my deepest desires are something else?” Cane asked. “Can you reward me with gold? Power?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A pause. The forest — the very air — remained stale and stoic and gripped in silence, until the world finally seemed to breathe around him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I can,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>the voice said lowly. A tendril of energy seemed to tickle up Cane’s spine, leaving goosebumps in its wake, and Cane’s eyes fluttered closed. It happened again, more insistent, a sensation that could have been caused by something corporeal. Even the thin tunic over Cane’s back bunched as something caressed him gently, up and down. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“I had hoped, all these years. I had hoped you would ask for me. I could take any form that would please you, my love.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>My love. It was the second time the spirit had called him that. Cane had never been anyone’s love. Few people even </span>
  <em>
    <span>liked</span>
  </em>
  <span> Cane. He had always been strange. Outcast. Arrogant and brash. But here — here he had always felt at peace. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Have you been watching me?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I have watched you,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> the spirit said, the voices and languages beneath its speech somehow muted, softer. It was like a whisper. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“I have held you. I have curled myself around you as you slept in the shade of my stone. But without sacrifice I could not make myself known to you. I need your worship. And to live — to live free from the stone as I once did... I need more.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Cane’s knees were beginning to ache against the hard rock beneath them, his feet beginning to tingle with lack of feeling, but he couldn’t bear to move. That sensation was still crawling up and down his back, like a soothing hand. Large and warm and safe.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>So he turned his head to look over his shoulder, and finally cracked open his eyes. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His heart nearly stopped. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Cane let out a cry of surprise that would have startled all the birds in the forest if any were still near the presence of this beast — and a beast it was. Cane scrambled away from it on his hands and knees, wheeling around to press his back to the cool stone of the monolith, his chest heaving.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The creature was kneeling there before him, an arm raised where it had caressed Cane’s back. Even crouched as it was, it reached twice Cane’s height, and its pale gray skin nearly glowed in the darkness, moonlight-bright shapes and symbols shifting and ebbing and flowing over its bare body like ripples of water. It was smooth as — as stone. Neither hair nor blemish blotting its skin, with muscular, angular legs and four crooked arms, all limbs too long to be human — hands and feet spiked with claws. Powerful muscles clenched and shifted as it lowered its arm, all four hanging now at its sides. The creature breathed, a rattle of a sound.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Cane could barely bring himself to lift his eyes to the beast’s face, but when he did, the sight of it set his blood cold. Pale lips stretched thin over sharp teeth, too large for the creature to even close its mouth. They shone gleaming and white and polished in the moonlight above, but if that mouth bore a smile or a frown, a grimace or a scowl, Cane could not tell. For that, he sought refuge in the creature’s eyes — but they were obscured, a crown of briars over its face, thorns that seemed to grow atop and from underneath its skin. Above the gruesome blindfold, its head was topped with a set of horns that swooped and pointed to form a perfect circle, framing the starlight above. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was moon and night and predator and protector, and it looked down at Cane as if it could see him through its thorn-crusted eyes. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The voice spoke again, surrounding Cane, but the creature’s mouth didn’t move. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“You fear me.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I fear nothing,” Cane snapped. It had been true. Until moments ago, it had been true.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>You needn’t fear me</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” it said, and a sensation of disappointment, of sadness seemed to seep into Cane from the creature itself. A wave of it. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Please do not fear me.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I fear </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Cane said again, sitting straighter, trying to form his body into the shape of something resolute, but he could hardly move, his legs frozen where they splayed akimbo out in front of him. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The creature set two hands on the stone and crawled forward, its other two arms dragging at its sides as it closed the short distance between them. It lowered its face to Cane’s, its massive head and its gleaming teeth and — now — cold breath ruffling Cane’s hair.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>I had hoped</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” the creature said, its many voices a whisper once again, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>that you would look upon me and know, as I once did</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Know what?” Cane asked quietly. He was unsure where to look, as the creature had no eyes upon which to focus. So he stared at its briar blindfold, his vision catching on the thorns in the moonlight. The beast’s skin still shifted with indiscernible symbols and runes and shapes, and something about it seemed nearly beautiful.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The creature’s two free hands rose to cup Cane’s face, each large enough to crush his skull if they wanted to. But the touch was tender and cold, soothing in the muggy night air. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>I knew it would be you whom I would one day love</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” the creature said. Its clawed thumb stroked Cane’s cheek, dangerous but restrained. And through that touch another feeling flowed: that possessiveness and protectiveness tinged with the wanting Cane had felt, but now so strong it became electric. Static curled from the creature’s fingers into his skin, sparking through his nerves, reaching down into the heat pooling in his gut and the tips of his fingertips and the tips of his toes.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“This reward,” Cane mumbled, his body coiling with a new tension — not fear, not discomfort — anticipation. “What did you have in mind?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A long pink tongue slipped from between the beast’s massive teeth and swiped over them. Wet with strings of saliva, the appendage should have been horrifying. But something in Cane shuddered at the sight of it. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>I would reward you with the greatest pleasure</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” the voice said, its tongue slipping back between its teeth like an eel. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>The most sublime transcendence. I would make love to you here, where you laid the corpse of your foe at my feet. I would plant my seed inside your body. I would break you, satisfy the unspoken desires of your flesh and your soul.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It paused, its hands leaving Cane’s face and planting themselves on the monolith on either side of his head. Cane couldn’t draw breath. The creature’s head inched closer. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>But if you find my form repulsive… I can take the shape of whomever you desire most.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There was a question in there, a plea for permission. This creature wanted Cane, but it was bound to reward him as Cane saw fit. Gold, power — pleasure. Which would he choose? For he could not lie and claim the creature repulsed him. There was strength in its strange body, and something of its devotion to him acted upon Cane like a drug. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>If you fear me…</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Slowly, Cane lifted his trembling hand to the creature’s cheek, the corner of its mouth where its lips stretched over its teeth. Its skin was cold to the touch like the stone upon which Cane sat, but a muscle beneath his fingers twitched with undeniable life, as if the creature were attempting to smile. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I fear nothing,” Cane said again, but this time it came upon a small, quiet breath. “But I do not know who or what I desire, Old One.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Disappointment again. The creature seemed to draw back slightly, but Cane stilled it with his other hand, cupping the creature’s face as it had done to him. “I mean to say,” Cane began again, “that you should reward me as you see fit. Perhaps I should trust, with your centuries of knowledge, that you know how to please your loyal patrons. And …” he paused, “your form does not repulse me. Far from it, in fact.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The beast’s cold breath came out like a sigh, tingling over Cane’s face and neck, and tension within the creature’s form began to seep out of it. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>You would have me then, my love?</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes. I would have you.” He did not know what to do next, how to encourage his strange, ethereal companion. So he leaned forward and, nervously, brought his lips to the ivory grate of the creature’s teeth, laying a gentle kiss upon it. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The creature shuddered. Its hands on the ground lifted, coming to Cane’s waist, where claws almost gently untucked Cane’s tunic from his breeches, snagging on the linen. And Cane understood. Those hands were large and unwieldy, not meant to untie the delicate lacing of Cane’s breeches or untuck fabric from the tight leather of his boots. So Cane stood slowly, the creature rising with him so its head remained at the height of his own, so its arms surrounded him. It still knelt with its knees up near its head, so tall it could not rise to its feet without dwarfing Cane entirely. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He undressed there on the stone in the cage of the beast’s arms. Though it had no eyes, it watched him intently, seeing perhaps more than the slow reveal of Cane’s pale flesh. Seeing, perhaps, the anticipatory shiver that made its way down his narrow frame. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The beast’s breath came out in a chill burst as Cane dropped the last of his clothes to the stone with his empty scabbard and the dagger he kept in his boot and — along with it all — any pretense of defense. He was vulnerable, bare under the scrutiny of this massive, ancient being. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The last thing to come off was the tie that held back Cane’s hair. He loosened it and let it fall, and he lifted his eyes once more to the creature’s thorns. “I accept your reward, Old One,” he said with formality.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The creature moved faster than Cane could have anticipated, its four hands coming to each of Cane’s limbs, wrapping them in a tight grip and holding him there, prone against the monolith. And its head moved forward, nudging Cane’s head to the side so it could scrape its teeth along the sensitive skin of his neck. Immoble and exposed, Cane shivered, leaning away from the touch and the breath until that long, wet tongue once more protruded from between the creature’s massive fangs. It licked a stripe up his neck, behind his ear and back down, and Cane’s entire body clenched tight. He cried out — in shock or surprise or sudden delight, he did not know. But he couldn’t recoil from the feeling held in place as he was. He had no choice but to give himself to the feeling, to the slow exploration of that tongue as it made its way down his chest, circling a nipple and licking back up to the bulge of his adam’s apple. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Cane swallowed, tilted his head down to regard the creature, but soon it was at eye-level once again, its tongue exploring the line of Cane’s own lips. The request was clear, and Cane succumbed to it. Tentatively, he parted his lips, and the creature’s tongue slithered into his mouth like a snake, so large it pressed up against the back of his throat, filled his cheeks, gagged him. His eyes fell closed. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It had been a very long time since his mouth had been stuffed in this way, and never with something so prehensile and flexible and encouragingly exploratory. It licked the backs of his teeth, edged under his own tongue, wet his lips until they were spit-slick and shining. Its girth made it nearly impossible to draw breath but through his nose. And when finally the tongue left his open, gasping mouth, he took in a hasty gulp of air. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was only then he realized that, between his legs, he had grown hard. Embarrassment struck him like a blow and he turned his head into his shoulder as if to hide his face. A delighted sound rumbled from the creature. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>I knew</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” it said. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“I knew. I knew you would want me. I knew it was you. It would be you.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” The soft praise continued even as the creature’s mouth occupied itself with other tasks. Its hands let go of Cane’s arms to grope his chest, claws scraping small pink lines into his skin, and its head lowered, tongue drawing a line from sternum to groin. Cane shuddered, his hands flying up to grip the circle of the creature’s horns, a handle for him to grasp as that tongue now wrapped itself around his cock. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Cane jerked in the creature’s hold, powerless to break it, his head thunking back against the stone. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Delicious</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” the creature’s voice reverberated in Cane’s ears, in his mind. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Beautiful. So small</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Cane would have argued, but the size of his length could not quite compare to the tongue now dwarfing it. His cheeks flushed red as he bowed his head, staring down. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>For the first time in longer than he could remember, he felt powerless.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>For the first time in his life, he liked it.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Though the tongue was soft and strong, curling and moving around Cane’s cock as if to draw out every spark of pleasure it could, those teeth inched dangerously close.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Do not dare bite me,” he managed to say. The creature’s shoulders shook, as if in a laugh, and it released Cane’s cock from its tongue, leaving it wet and red and at a painful stand. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>I would not</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” it said, and lapped a long stripe up Cane’s cock as if to assure him, or to apologize. Cane twitched, biting his lip. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>I wish to please you, my love</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” The hands around Cane’s thighs clenched and lifted, and the hands on his chest held him steady as the creature raised Cane off the platform and higher against the stone. He shuddered at the feeling of the rough texture against his bare back, and closed his eyes as if he knew what would come next. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“You needn’t—” he began to say, but before he could finish, the creature’s tongue probed lower as its hands lifted Cane’s rear. It licked a stripe down from his balls to the pucker of his hole, its tip wriggling inside without preamble or hesitation. Cane gasped, his grip on the creature’s horns tightening. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A pleasant sound rumbled within the creature’s large body, and Cane stared down at it. From this angle, he could see the long, powerful slope of its back, its narrow frame and the ribs jutting out from its sides. He could see the curve of its rear end, but nothing else. Was it aroused? How could he tell? </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Old One,” he whispered, his voice strained as that tongue reached deeper inside him. Its strange, rough texture would have made his knees weak as it pressed against that sweet spot inside him, so it was a small blessing the creature held him prone. “Old One, please. You said — oh, you said you would p — plant your seed. Inside me.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>And I will</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” the voice rumbled, even as that tongue delved deeper, the thick base of it now stretching Cane’s hole tight as its nimble tip explored and probed deep within him. Cane’s body quaked.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“But I will — like this, I may not —” He clenched his teeth, blinking past the pleasure, trying to force down the climax that lingered just on the edge of his consciousness. His still-wet cock twitched and throbbed each time the creature’s tongue stroked within him. It hurt, but in a way Cane had never experienced.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>You will climax before I fill you</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” the creature asked, and its happiness was palpable in the air around them, its satisfaction. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Cane could only nod, could only hope the creature saw him. But far from discouraging it, this admission seemed only to spur it on. The tongue slipped deeper inside him, until the smooth plane of the creature’s teeth pressed up against the cheeks of Cane’s ass. Its tongue’s thick base stretched Cane wide, and Cane choked and gasped with the sudden onslaught. It reached into the very core of him, meeting resistance and pushing past it, heedless of the limitations of Cane’s own body. He could feel it practically in his stomach, wriggling and exploring and stroking nerves — never before touched — until they felt like fire. “Please,” he whispered.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>This is your reward</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” the beast’s voice echoed gently, its tongue flicking some deep, forbidden place. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Tell me what you want, and it shall be yours</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” The hands holding Cane’s thighs aloft tightened dangerously, no doubt leaving bruises in the shape of five massive fingers. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Cane’s cock twitched against his belly, and he choked out some sort of warning before the orgasm took him. It started at the tip of the creature’s tongue and ricocheted down to that spot right inside him, where the base of that appendage applied relentless pressure. Even as his hips twitched and he writhed in the creature’s hold, the tongue undulated, each point of contact milking weak spurts of come from Cane’s cock, untouched between them but still wet with saliva. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>A delighted growl reverberated from the creature’s chest — the first sound it had made that wasn’t layered with ancient languages and vibrating energy. It sounded like an animal, and for the briefest moment, on the edge of that pleasure, Cane was afraid. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Its hands clenched harder into his thighs, tiny pinpricks of blood blooming where its claws barely punctured flesh.  </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>What would it be like, for one of those fingers to probe him? For those claws to tear him up from the inside out? Cane shuddered. “Stop,” he choked. “Too much.” The beast withdrew its tongue slowly, each agonizing inch dragging against Cane’s prostate and milking more dribbles of white from the head of his cock, still swollen and red.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As if in apology for the onslaught of feeling, the creature began to lick Cane clean, starting with the length of his cock, then moving to the twitching and trembling plane of his belly. It was reverent in its task, exploratory.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Hungry.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The creature had filled him, but it had not planted any seed. It had not reached any climax of its own. This was Cane’s reward, and somewhere on the fuzzy outskirts of his addled mind, he knew what he wanted. His chin lolled against his chest, his fingers twitched weakly where they still gripped those cool, hard horns.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I want to see,” Cane managed to breathe out. “I want to see you. How you plan to fill me.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A ripple of excitement wavered through the air, and the hands on his thighs lowered him back to the plinth, though the two on his chest held him steady there against the stone. And when the creature lifted its head, its teeth gleamed and its tongue lolled out, dripping wet. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Can you stand?</span>
  </em>
  <span>” It asked. Cane swallowed.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The hands left him, and the creature drew away. Cane hadn’t realized how cold the creature’s presence was, but the comforting heat of night returned to him as the beast pulled back, crouching on the edge of the plinth, its massive legs crooked up to its shoulders. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>A single hand trailed down the creature’s body as it sat back on his rear, and it spread its legs in invitation. Cane, resting against the stone for support, followed the movement, and his eyes widened. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Where smooth skin had been when he first laid eyes on the beast, now he could see the dark line of a swelling slit between its legs, black flesh peeking through. He stared as the creature’s hand parted the folds, the tip of something large and dark beginning to protrude. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Here,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” the beast’s voice reverberated. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Come closer.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Cane was helpless but to obey, drawn forward, his knees trembling, an ache building deep inside him and between his legs. Just as he managed to stumble to the space between the beast’s knees, he fell to his own, face-to-face with the swell of its slit and the protruding tip of its cock.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He knelt there in the pose of worship, and lifted his hands. A cool sigh slipped from between the creature’s teeth, and it lowered its head, its body curled around Cane like a spider, its limbs trapping him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Though he had no wish to be freed just yet.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>You may touch me</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” it whispered in his mind.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And Cane did. He traced the line of its slit with careful fingers, the wet velvet of its folds engorging at his touch, splitting the creature open wider, the tip of its cock beginning to edge farther out from its sheath. Its tip came to a sharp, narrow point, but as it emerged Cane could tell it grew steadily thicker, studded with fleshy spikes that laid atop each other like scales. He took it in hand, that black, conical appendage, and began to stroke it as he would stroke any human’s cock, hoping it may at least react the same way.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The creature shuddered around him. Something dark, wet and viscous dripped from its tip onto the stone beneath them, and Cane took in a sharp breath. Its slit pulsed, each throb seeming to push its cock out until it was long enough to wrap around Cane’s neck. With both hands, he stroked and caressed, tweaking the nubs of flesh that dotted its length, a fearful curiosity taking hold. How large was it? What might that viscous liquid taste like, if he dared to open his mouth to it? What would this beast look like when it climaxed? And, oh, could he be so lucky that it would do so inside of him?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His own cock throbbed at the thought, but he resisted the urge to touch himself. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Do not resist</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” the creature said. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>You may have your pleasure. You will have more before your reward has been fulfilled</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Is that a promise, Old One?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>It is my binding oath. Will you trust me to care for you?</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes.” The answer came immediately — Cane believed this spirit to be a myth mere hours ago, and yet, he found it was true. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>You truly fear nothing, my love.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Gentle as if it were cradling some precious piece of glass, the creature scooped Cane up from his place between its legs, lifting him with all four hands into the air. Cane’s stomach jolted as the creature drew itself to its full height and turned from the stone, turned away from the plinth and the monolith and stepped down into the tall grass and moist soil of the clearing’s floor. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>I want you to be comfortable</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” the creature said, bringing Cane to its chest and holding him there. Cane listened for a heartbeat, but heard none. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>I want you to be happy. So happy.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Cane did not know if he was happy. He was overwhelmed, confused, delirious with afterglow and the strange aphrodisiac of this creature’s attention and devotion. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But as the creature knelt once more, this time in the soft grass, and gently lowered Cane to lay there in the middle of the clearing, he felt something akin to calm. Contentment.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The creature rose above him, the circle of its horns wreathing the moon high above their heads, the starlight dancing on the ever-shifting patterns of its skin. Two of its hands covetously traced the lines of Cane’s body, so careful not to harm him, and tenderness rushed Cane’s heart like a battering ram.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It seemed to regard him for countless minutes, exploring him, its cock dripping audibly onto the moist soil. It wanted him, so why would it wait but for Cane’s benefit?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“My reward,” Cane reminded the creature, taking one of its massive hands in both of his own. He pressed a kiss to the cold knuckles, stroked the curved claw of its thumb. “I am ready to receive it.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>That sound, the real sound, the creature’s true voice, rumbled in its chest again, and soon it was over him entirely, two hands planted beside his head, the other two holding his arms at his sides. It breathed loud, cold, wet against Cane’s face as it lowered its head. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>My love</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” it said as its tongue whipped out from between its teeth, swiping over Cane’s lips. Cane opened for it, arching to get closer, to take more into his mouth even as its tip reached the back of his throat.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>My love</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” it said again. Movement — the sudden pressure of the beast’s knees on his thighs, widening his legs. The wet tip of its cock nudging up against Cane’s own. Cane closed his eyes, sucked the tongue deeper into his mouth, planted his feet and lifted his hips. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The invitation could not have been clearer. And so the beast took it. It nudged the wet tip of its cock against Cane’s hole, already slick and stretched from its tongue. The tapered tip slid easily inside, its protrusions barely meeting resistance as the creature pushed forward. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The texture immediately set Cane’s blood aflame, and he groaned in the back of his throat, the sound muffled. The spikes seemed to swell as they entered him, each of them throbbing to the same rhythm — a heartbeat somewhere in there after all. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Cane writhed, whimpering around the beast’s tongue as tears began to squeeze themselves from his eyes. The girth near the base of the beast’s cock hurt — the sheer depth hurt — but that thick juice from its tip had slicked the way, making every inch of its intrusion a little easier. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Somewhere in the back of his mind, Cane knew he should not be able to withstand this. He should be dead, impaled like the two men he had impaled in this very clearing only hours ago. The size of the creature could kill him, split him in two, and yet even the pain was tinged with mounting pleasure. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The old gods, the old magics, some force greater than he ever knew existed allowed him this feeling. He let his head fall limp back against the ground as the creature finally pressed all the way inside. Its swollen slit was cold and wet against Cane’s ass, throbbing obviously now.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The creature rubbed against him, the movement jostling the cock buried deep inside him, and Cane groaned with the feeling. His chest was heaving, so little air in his lungs and what remained seemed to be punched out of him with each twitch of the creature’s cock, each roll of its hips. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Slowly, the beast withdrew its tongue from between Cane’s swollen lips, and he sucked in a gasp of air. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>I want to hear you</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” the creature said. Its voice in his mind was not strained, even as its thin chest rose and fell with rapid breath. Cane wanted to respond, to warn the old one of the echoing forest, the city guards alert to every sound. But before he could, the creature pulled back, drawing its cock out of Cane’s insides even as the swollen scales along its length resisted at the tight ring of Cane’s hole. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Cane clenched his fingers into the soil, powerless to do anything else. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh,” he moaned, each inch out just as stimulating as each inch in, the spikes pressing up against his prostate and making his cock twitch with renewed interest against his belly. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>More</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” the beast said. As if to punctuate its request, it shoved back in with one hard thrust, stretching Cane too fast and too hard, the wet of its slick barely enough to ease the way. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Cane cried out, his toes curling, that deep part of him opening easily now to the creature’s cock. As though his body itself wanted this. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The sound seemed to please the creature, who did it again, pulling out, thrusting in, rubbing its slit against Cane’s ass each time it bottomed out. The pace started slow, a moment of breath and reprieve between each punishing thrust, but it would not remain slow for long.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Even as the beast’s ethereal voice echoed praises in Cane’s ears and in his mind, a growl seemed trapped in its throat, the creature grunting and its cold breath bursting out between its teeth. It sounded like a bull in heat as it picked up the pace, fucking into Cane’s insides like it meant to breed him. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>To plant its seed.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Cane turned his head into the grass, breathing in the scent of the loam and the foliage, embarrassed at the red flush of his face and the red stand of his cock and the way his body opened so willingly. The way he let out the cries and moans that seemed to so please his strange lover. Cane was aloof, brash, arrogant, unliked, never tender and never treated tenderly. And never embarrassed. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>This creature had disarmed him entirely, and now it reached into the places no one had ever been able — or allowed — to touch. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A growl shook itself from behind the creature’s teeth as the sheer force of its thrusts lifted Cane’s ass off the ground, only its crooked knees and the girth inside Cane holding his bottom half aloft. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was practically streaming its viscous liquid inside Cane now, so wet and so much that it began to drip down Cane’s thighs, cold in the night air. Another sensation to drown in. But that was not how he knew the creature was close. It was because that calm voice layered with power and intention had not spoken in many minutes, because now all that was left were the grunts and growls of an ancient and foreign creature, like it had lost itself somewhere in the heat of Cane’s body.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Cane came long before the creature did — maybe more than once — his cock twitching weakly against his stomach, his body going completely limp before it seized once more with another peak of pleasure. But when the creature came, it seemed to last forever. It thrust once, twice, relentless, and the bars of its teeth parted, its mouth wide and black as an abyss, its roar echoing so loudly through the forest there was no doubt it would be heard by the guards at the city gates.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And it did plant its seed inside Cane, a freezing flood of something fluid that seemed to reach Cane’s gut, so much it spurt out of him even before the creature withdrew its cock. The flood lasted so long, Cane could only lay impaled on that cock, gasping for breath and crying and laughing with some giddy sense of fulfilment, blindly begging for the creature’s kiss.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It slipped its tongue between Cane’s lips once again, choking him, stuffing him from both ends. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And Cane felt … happy. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It lasted all night, this rendezvous. The creature flipped Cane over onto his stomach, fucked him with his face pressed so hard into the grass it left marks like a map on his cheek. Eventually, Cane knelt once more between the beast’s legs, sucking at that thick, lubricating liquid, tasting of iron as if it were blood. He stroked the throbbing folds of its slit, flicking his tongue over the spikes that lined its length — until it spilled the ice-cold spurt of its come onto his face.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>It was sometime deep into the night, in the cradle of the creature’s arms, as it held one of his legs aloft and thrust messily into him, grunting its pleasure, that the blur began to cloud over Cane’s eyes, the black began to encroach over his vision. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Keep going,” he whispered, though the creature was so far gone by now he did not know if it heard or understood him. In either case, it obeyed. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Cane awoke to the dawn, blinking into the offensive glare of the morning light rising golden somewhere just out of sight. His head ached; his body ached; every muscle throbbed. And it was only after taking stock of his body  that he realized he was nude, and cold, and uncomfortable. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He forced his eyes open fully, blearily searching his surroundings. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was the clearing, where the great monolith stood. Its face, still uncovered by vines. Its plinth unstained by blood. His clothes and weapons lay in a pile there, right where he had dropped them. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But as birds and insects chirped to herald the oncoming morning, as rodents skittered somewhere in the underbrush and brightly colored bugs hopped from the leaves of the very grass in which he lay, he understood. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Life had returned to the forest — the life the creature had frozen with its presence — but the Old One was gone.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Cane sat up, rubbing his head, wincing at the ache left by their lovemaking. It was the only proof that his memories were real at all. Somewhere deep in his body, the pain of intrusion throbbed. Bruises colored his thighs in the shape of the creature’s fingers. But he saw no evidence of the Old One’s dark seed dried over his face, his body, dripping down his thighs. He was clean. And completely alone.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A part of Cane wished he had maintained his consciousness throughout the night. If only to see the tenderness with which the creature must have cleaned him. If only to experience the end of their rendezvous, however it ended. How many times had the creature climaxed inside him? Had he missed its world-shaking growl? The puncture of its claws into his flesh? </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Sitting there in the cool, dew-drenched grass, Cane shivered. He stared up the height of the stone, taking in a long, steadying breath. This god, once worshipped by so many, now hungry for the reverence it was owed. Cane gave it that reverence.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And Cane was rewarded. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But the loneliness that gripped him now, in the revealing light of the morning without the creature’s cold touch to soothe him — it felt like a punishment.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Is that all?” He asked aloud, his throat raw. Even his jaw ached.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Silence.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Though Cane had left many lovers in the morning himself, the disappointment he felt could not be justified away. He did not know why he hoped the creature would still be here when he awoke, only that he did. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It said it loved him. Maybe it was just a trick of the old magics, a game played by the old gods. Maybe it meant to hurt him, after all.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As the sun rose in the lavender sky, Cane gathered his things, slipped on his breeches and strapped the scabbard to his belt. He tied back his hair into its usual bun, and thought vaguely how difficult it might be to slip back into the city without scrutiny. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Maybe he could stay here, he thought. At the idea, he cast his eyes up to the stone, searching it for answers. This was where he always belonged, wasn’t it? The creature said it always knew that Cane would be the one to free it. Maybe Cane always knew, too. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He swallowed, steeled himself. He could not stay. What life would that be? Worshipping a stone in solitude as if it might awake one day to reward him once more? He had to do something worth rewarding.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The thought occurred to him just as he took his first steps toward the edge of the clearing, just as he forced himself to reconcile with the idea of “home.” And it was at this thought that the world changed once more.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A tremor passed through the very air; the sky flashed with a silver sheen; silence gripped the forest like a fist. Cane wheeled around, his breath catching in his chest as he looked once more upon the great monolith.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Just like yesterday, light flickered over the inscription on the stone, words standing out in a language he could read — and every language he couldn’t. But the words were the poem he had been taught as a child, nor the poem he had seen just the day before.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His heart clenched as if in arrest at the words.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Spill fresh blood upon this stone</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>To free me from my prison site</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I shall walk among both day and night</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>And never shall we be alone</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As the poem faded from his sight, as the world returned to him in pieces — first the sound of a bird’s morning song, then the color and breath of the forest around him — he felt rather than knew that all translations were true, in their own way. The creature kept its promise to break him. It kept its promise to reward him. And now — now it promised something else. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Spill fresh blood…</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Free me… </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Never be alone… </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The words echoed in his ears and his mind and his heart, and he knew.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I understand,” Cane whispered. “My … love.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Once, Cane may have felt sorry for his quarry. Not the bandits or the criminals he’d drug here over the last few months, but certainly the good people of the city. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The one he dropped now onto the plinth, blood spilling from his slit throat, wore the armor of the city guard. One of Cane’s countrymen and brothers in arms. Someone whose name he knew, whose life he had defended and who had defended him in turn. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But now he was nothing but a corpse. Fresh and bloodied for the sacrifice. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“This is for you, Old One,” Cane said to the stone. And this time when the shift happened, it was not sudden, not surprising. He had felt it enough times to know it was simply what happened when his lover appeared. The world went gray and silent, the breeze froze as it whispered through the trees. And a large, clawed hand came to rest on Cane’s back.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Cane turned, a wide smile on his face as the beast’s head lowered to meet his own. Cane laid a kiss to the grate of its teeth, a hand coming to stroke the corner of its mouth.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It scooped him up in all four of its hands, holding him aloft like that first night they made love, and Cane giggled in a way that would be too much and too revealing if this beast did not already know all there was to know of him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>You have done well, my love</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” it said fondly. In the sunlight like this, its skin did not shift with symbols and shapes, but it was just as beautiful gleaming like polished stone in the sunshine. It was getting stronger with each sacrifice, its ribs no longer jutting out, its muscles more defined, its horns and claws gleaming — able to exist now by day or night, longer each time. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“And my reward?”  Cane stroked the curve of the creature’s horn, grinning down at it, no longer afraid of its briar crown or its sharp teeth or any pain it could cause him. The Old One would not harm him. Not the man it loved. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>You shall have your reward. And soon, much more than that.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Its voice rumbled and echoed all around Cane, through Cane. And though it was tinged with delight and anticipation, Cane’s smile faltered.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“How much longer?” He asked as he did nearly every day. Every time he brought a sacrifice to his lover’s stone. “How much more blood do you need?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>More</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” the creature whispered. It tilted its head to nuzzle against Cane’s face without scratching him, to lightly graze its teeth along his throat. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Just a little more. More blood. More bodies. More you. More.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Cane understood. It needed worship. Sacrifice. If Cane were its sole patron, he would give this beast all it needed and more. He would slaughter the whole city to see it freed, to finally exist alongside it each day, each night. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Cane’s reward for his worship went far beyond pleasure. He had been given love. Boundless, ancient devotion. And he would not waste it. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Free,” Cane whispered softly. He urged the beast to lift its head, and placed another kiss to its teeth. They stayed there for many long moments, neither aware nor caring of the stench of death, the corpse draining slowly on the stone beneath them. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>If it is too much —</span>
  </em>
  <span>” the creature began, but Cane shook his head to silence it before it could finish its thought.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I will spill rivers of blood for you if I must,” Cane assured his love. “Anything, my Old One.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>My love</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” the creature whispered. It seemed to heave a deep sigh, a breath — and a cool, soothing sense of relief overtook Cane’s senses. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>I always knew</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” it said, its many languages and reverberating echoes as comforting now as an old favorite song. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I always knew it would be you.”</span>
</p>
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